


In Which John and Sherlock Kiss

by thequeergiraffe



Series: The Spaces In-between [25]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: "but Jawwwn it's for a case", Dr. Watson flustered in an alley...one of my favorite scenarios, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-26
Updated: 2012-04-26
Packaged: 2017-11-04 09:03:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/392108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequeergiraffe/pseuds/thequeergiraffe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It happens the same way everything happens with us: quickly, unexpectedly, and entirely against my will.<br/>------------<br/>(Can be read as a standalone.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which John and Sherlock Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> For reader heidi, who requested a first kiss. I cheated you a little but I think you'll survive. :)

_John:_

It happens the same way everything happens with us: quickly, unexpectedly, and entirely against my will.

One moment we're running down the street, breath ragged and feet pounding, and the next Sherlock is yanking me into an alcove and pressing his lips against mine.

"Sherlock," I gasp, and he shakes his head.

"Shh, we're being followed," he whispers, illogically. I can't connect point A (Sherlock's lips, full and softer than I expected) and point B (the danger of a tail on a case). It doesn't matter; every thought in my head gets washed away as Sherlock brings his mouth to mine again. This time I'm not so stunned and I kiss back, my hands pushing at his coat and settling on the sharp bones of his hips. Sherlock's mouth is warm and wet and eager; I'm not used to tipping my head up into a kiss, nor have I ever felt a flat chest pressed against my own like this, but I don't mind. God, I really don't mind. This is good, this is better than good, this is  _brilliant_ -

Sherlock steps away and gives me an odd, amused look. "Well done," he says, and for one really strange second I think he's evaluating the kiss. "I'm sure our man found that to be entirely believable."

Oh.

Of course.

Looking down the alley, Sherlock rubs absently at his lips (I can still feel the echo of them on mine) and says, "Whether he actually believed we were just having a quick snog or not, it's too risky to follow him now. He'll recognize our clothes."

"Right," I say, my voice rough. I clear my throat; Sherlock gives me another odd look.

"Are you all right?"

"Fine, fine." I step out of the alcove and straighten my jumper. "Just…a bit thrown, but fine."

Sherlock's mouth rises on one side. "Sorry, improv. I imagined five different scenarios in which two men would be out of breath and in a disused alleyway; three were impossible without disguises and I think you would have found the fourth objectionable. Hence…" He shrugs, waving at the alcove.

"Right," I say again, because I really can't manage much more than that right now.

"So…" Is this Sherlock Holmes being awkward? Genuinely awkward? The wonders of this night never cease. "We should…"

_Do that again. Now. And then again later, but with less clothes._

Where in God's name did  _that_  come from?

I blink the thought away and mumble, "Track them, maybe? If we keep at a distance…"

"Mmm, well," Sherlock says, tapping at his lips again (and it doesn't help at all, not when I'm trying not to stare at that damned mouth of his), "I'm reasonably certain they're headed to the docks. It could be hit-or-miss, but I suppose it's worth a try. Shall we?"

"Yes, of course," I quip, happy to have something else to think about besides Sherlock's hips in my hands and the way he tasted. I'm confused, incredibly confused, but there's one thing I'm sure of: no way in hell is  _this_  winding up on my blog.


End file.
